Broken Abode
by Marcurio'sPrincessXxo
Summary: "Some people come in our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same." FDragonbornxMarcurio -Disclaimer: I don't own neither Skyrim nor the cover photo-
1. Chapter 1

Each year was creeping by even slower than the first.

It seemed like only yesterday Marcurio had told her he'd be home by nightfall. He was only going down to the market, and it seemed like the gods' honest truth, so why should she have doubted that? He loved her, that she never doubted, he always made sure to tell her that with each passing moment.. But if he really _did_, then where was he?

Though, the time did not cease when he ceased to be. Those overbearing five years now caught up with the broken family. Samuel and Runa were now sixteen, and would soon be having a family of there own. Why hadn't he returned? Was there no audacity to tell the three he wouldn't be returning? That there would be no more bedtime stories of the adventures he'd spent with Momma? No. He had no bold move. Her babies were now grown and yet were still asking whatever happened to their dearest Pa.

She dismissed herself from her book, exiting Windstad Manor to return to he work in the stables. The chill night air was soothing, her heated cheeks beginning to dissolve with each second's passing.

A lone Wolf limped by, and the very sight of the abandoned creature nearly pushed her to tears. Why wasn't it with it's pack? Was it only because it had nothing to offer that it left it all alone? How can something that has every right to be upset or angry with the world be so peaceful, when she, _the _Dragonborn, Listener, and retired Arch-Mage of Winterhold, be so hurt?

She picked up the brush, gently combing Shadowmere's knotted mane, lulling her aggravation.

All the conversation's with her amicable Guildmaster resurfaced, beginning to cloud her thoughts with a deeper remorse.

_"You ever wondered if he just had enough?"_ Brynjolf's thick accent taunted her ears.

"Enough of what?" She snapped back to no one. Shadowmere's ear's twitching back as the best response he could give.

_"Now, lass, don't be like that. I'm only telling you how I see it. He just may have been tired of all the attention. Maybe it felt like he wasn't of any kind of importance to your life, couldn't live up to the high expectations people were holding against the Dragonborn's husband."_

She sighed heavily, the pace of the brush gliding quicker along the smooth coat.

Maybe he was with some wealthy wench, living in a nice cozy cabin alongside the oceans of Elsweyr, or joined a bandit contraband to leave his clean image behind. For all she knew, he could be dead. _Dead_. The word caused a shudder to wrack her body, knees threatening to give way. She chuckled, shaking her head vigorously. Marcurio is too strong for death. His advantages outranked every powerful being she'd grown to know throughout her youth, so he _had_ be alive.

Maybe it was her pride or her bitter grudge that would never allow her to admit it to _anyone_, but she knew a person would never understand how much she missed him. All those things that were worth missing: his cocky snickers, the darkest brown orbs she'd ever laid eyes on, his smooth Imperial skin and taunting plump lips. She missed the time they'd spent together scouting Forsworn's hideouts and scavenging the hidden treasures from his favorite architect: Dwemer ruins. She yearned to see him again, to hold him in her feeble arms, and have the chance to tell him how much she loves him one last time. But that time will never come.. He was long gone, now.

A twig snaps behind the two, Shadowmere letting out an irritated neigh, while her hands begin to brighten with the ancient spells she had learnt so many years ago. It was hard to see the figure standing among the dense undergrowth surrounding the stables, even though her senses had grown so strong. She squints as the figure moves forward, and once it's out of the trees and in to the moonlight, she can hardly breathe.

Akatosh had either answered her nightly cries or Marcurio had read her every thought. He was much different from when she last saw him, his once perfect body battered from fights of the unknown, and his broad left shoulder covered by a thin bandage of some sorts. Wounded, she presumed.

"Marcurio?" She was the first to speak, murmuring his name cautiously. Her voice still seemed so young and untouched to his sensitive ears. Her eyes linger on his smooth face, because he just stares at her.

"Say something," She demands, her tone becoming somewhat angry. He stirs, finally catching what little sense he has left. "_Please, _Marcurio?"

Instead of expressing his feelings in words, he takes a big step forward and crushes his lips on hers. Her hands are thrown over his -wounded- broad shoulders as his hands hold her neck tightly, responding with as much heat and desire. He grasps her little body and pulls her tightly against his chest.

They pull apart to breath, and Marcurio's eyes are almost as dark as the sky above them. She is crying now, tears rolling down her cheeks. He wipes them away and kisses her again this time much softer.

"I love you so much," She announces quickly, since his warm touch is now leaving hers. He begins to back away, turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction. The tears burn her eyes to the point of blurring her vision, "I love you, Marcurio! I love you so-"

She wakes with a start and bolts into a sitting position on her bed. She's panting heavily while her hand goes up to her chest as she tries to recover an exasperated breath. A thin layer of sweat has misted her shaken body. For the longest time she just sits there, before hands cup her face. And for the first time in five years, she allows the uncontrolled sobs to take over her entire being.


	2. Chapter 2

_"...Evil wasn't only in the form of a dragon." _

She stood over his grave, tears running down her cheeks, fists clenched tightly on the note with those last words scribbled on them. Her sides and shoulders were slumped in defeat. Rain poured harshly over the valley, completely drenching her robe, but she didn't seem to care. A crackle of thunder and a flash of lightning allowed anyone nearby to see the bleak and hopeless state she was in.

Once hearing the news, she was overwhelmed with the joy of the 'just knowing', but now that she was here, actually in front of his grave, actually holding her emotions at bay was proving to be quite difficult. She could feel Samuel's hand on her back, both watching as Runa spread the flowers over her father. She struggled to swallow the lump in her throat.

"Are you alright, Mom?" Sam's husky voice met her ears, softly pulling her out of the dark place her imagination had taken her.

The young Dragonborn opened the knapsack that was in her son's hand, pulling out a large satchel with soft fabric protecting what was underneath.

* * *

She had been sleeping when there came a light tapping at the door. She was greeted by the sad eyes of a courier. A wave of fear washed over her instantly.

"It's your husband, ma'am," The courier stammered nervously, grasping his hat in his hands. "W-We've found him."

Had she heard right? Maybe the courier had come to the wrong home. Yes! He'd probably mistaken this home for one of the other houses closer to Dawnstar or Whiterun. But, deep down inside, she understood everything. Her body was beginning to shake; head thrumming wildly. Her bottom lip quivered violently and she pushed past the courier, destined to find the truth.

She couldn't even recognize his own body. The sight of him, limbless and lifeless, was enough to make her pass out. A Priest said they found him dumped along side an abandoned rode near Solitude, with thousands of puncture wounds looking like bite marks scarring his frame. She wept, not only for the pain that he was inflicted, but realizing that he was basking in the glories of Sovngarde without her. Their last goodbyes not even that at all; good.

A smile washed over her face, once remembering the day of their wedding. _Talos_, she'd never been so terrified. But seeing him waiting for her, with his long hair pulled back inside his hood, wearing his Master wizard robes with a proud smile. She knew everything would be okay. He promised that day to always stand by her side and serve her no matter what became of their circumstances.

At the funeral, she almost smirked while the Priest spoke his grief, when she recalled the time they'd spoken of having children. It was a happy time she'd cherish forever.

_"I'm surprised you haven't asked for any children, dear," Marcurio murmured one night while warming his hands in front of their fire. Standing in the kitchen, she'd turned to him with widened eyes and jaw hanging open. "Close your mouth, darling, you may catch flies." he replied to her state._

_"I didn't think you wanted children." She replied after a moment of silence. She finished cooking and sat down in the chair beside him._

_"I never said that," He said, smiling heartily, "I just said that we wouldn't have the time to raise them."_

_"Oh would you just imagine it, Marc!" she said, suddenly excited, leaning toward him. He took her hands into his and squeezed them softly, "Let's say, a little girl, our little girl. Wouldn't that be so special?"_

They tried for months, but nothing seemed to work. When she became worried she went and visited a Priestess while Marcurio was gone visiting relatives. But when he returned to Honeyside, he found her, hysterical, in their bedroom. She told him everything as he held her. She couldn't have children. They'd never be able have a child of their own.

After the funeral, as hundreds of Skyrim's people, and her own two, began to retreat back to their homes, giving the Dragonborn their regards, she found herself paralyzed. She stared at the carved tomb he'd been encased in, and wondered if he was already holding their sweet babies in Sovngarde.

Another clap of thunder trembled the earth, and it was like someone had slapped her. She accepted_ everything_ right then and there.

Dropping to her knees, she erupted into fitted shivers and became a sobbing mess, but she forced herself to smile, knowing Marcurio was in a better place. He'd done her duty; fighting by her side. He'd just been there to guide her through everything; as her husband.

"What It meant to lose you," She whispered, swallowing hard, holding the decorative cloth, "No one will ever know." It sailed down in the deep hole, her Amulet of Mara and their wedding rings landing on top of Rune's Nightshade's.

Their experiences flushed through her mind, making her dizzy. She felt like vomiting. But those words, still echoed in her memory:

_"...Evil wasn't only in the form of a dragon."_

* * *

"Can I assist you Dragonborn?" came a soldier behind her.

"Yes, actually. Mind marking down that Dawnguard Fort on my map?"


	3. Just'a small request & a huge thank you!

I'd like to thank everyone for the reviews I've gotten thus far. At the moment I am having a very hard time, for my uncle, whom I was very close to, passed away early this morning from a heart-attack. It was strange, and all in God's wonderful timing, that I put up this certain quote as my story's description. He was only 45 and left behind two boys, and I've been told his mother, my great-grandmother, is having hard time coping with her youngest's passing... It doesn't seem right but I'll praise our Father through it. He saw a bigger picture in all of this, after all.  
Like I had stated a few months prior, I will continue taking my break from fanfiction, but I just wanted to tie up some loose ends. And whenever I have the time I will pick up some stories where I've left off. Thank you all, and your prayers would be very much appreciated through this difficult time.


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